


Stroke of Midnight

by babybluecas



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon Universe, Fluff, M/M, New Year's Eve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2017-12-31
Packaged: 2019-02-24 08:24:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13209795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babybluecas/pseuds/babybluecas
Summary: Three things happen in the Men of Letters Bunker at the stroke of midnight on New Year's Eve





	Stroke of Midnight

**Author's Note:**

> Have a very happy New Year! :)

Three things happen in the Men of Letters Bunker at the stroke of midnight on New Year's Eve — right at the end of the countdown, awkwardly half-mouthed among the three residents.

(1)

“Three, two, one–”

Somewhere in the depths of the library, the tall, old clock announces the end of the year and the beginning of a new, hopefully, better one. Its joyful chime is near instantly joined by a sound of shattered glass.

(2)

“Three, two, one– uh? Shit!”

Sam pops champagne. Clumsily. He lets the cork slip out his grasp and cuts through the room with deadly velocity. It hits one of the whiskey glasses, smashes it on touch and spatters the shards of glass across the floor. The explosion surely adds flare to the celebration.

Were Dean not otherwise occupied, he’d laugh his ass off and teased the hell out of Sam. But he can’t really blame Sam, can he? For being thrown a little off balance and losing focus on the task at hand.

Besides, as established, Dean — and Dean’s mouth in particular — is very much otherwise occupied, hence he limits himself to a muffled, a little exasperated chuckle.

(3)

“Three, two, one, h–”

Cas doesn’t get to finish the countdown with a customary slogan of a ‘Happy New Year!’. He’s being pulled in close, until his lips collide with lips, until his air becomes Dean. He doesn’t dare make a sound, doesn’t flinch when somewhere behind his back something shatters. He never wants Dean to pull away. Not when he drinks Dean’s sweet chuckle off his mouth, not when Dean’s fingers caress his jaw. Not when the New Year’s kiss turns into something deeper, lovelier.

But Dean pulls away, eventually, just so. His eyes are shining, a corner of his lips curls up in a playful smirk.

“Happy New Year,” he murmurs, only for Cas to hear.

“Happy New Year, Dean.”

“Ehem.”

They both turn to Sam, awkwardly standing beside them with his glass of champagne in hand. His eyes keep skipping from him to Dean and back to him.

Cas cannot hide his wide smile. “Happy New Year, Sam,” he says, reaching for his champagne.

Sam only manages to hold back until they’re done clinking glasses.

“So, um, how long have you—?”

Cas opens his mouth to respond, but Dean beats him to it.

“A while,” he says, shrugging. “What can I say, Sammy? I guess this year wasn’t all bad, after all.” He winks at Cas and raises his glass. “Here’s to the new one being not all bad, either.”

Sam shakes his head, disbelief still lingering on his face. But he’s smiling now, glass raised.

“Happy New Year.”

They down the champagne. The bubbles pleasantly tickle Cas’s tongue. Dean’s hand hovers somewhere around the small of his back.

“Oh, and Sam—” Dean sets his empty glass and tips his head toward the disaster a few feet away—”you owe me a new glass, you clutz.”

 


End file.
